


A Valentines Gift

by heygobrittany



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, Johnlock Gift Exchange, M/M, Smutty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-14
Updated: 2014-02-14
Packaged: 2018-01-12 09:59:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1184891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heygobrittany/pseuds/heygobrittany
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And as of lately Sherlock can't help but imagine if John would smile like that if he brought him flowers and trinkets, would he let him lean down to brush a kiss on his cheek? As of late he wants to know everything about John Watson.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Valentines Gift

 Sherlock never tried to keep holidays in order, as a matter of principal he deleted everyone of them that did not serve a direct purpose. But for some ghastly reason, Valentines day stayed deep rooted in his memory. He remembers in his teenage year his father buying his mother flowers or trinkets every year on the fourteenth, his mother rooted in place. A grin would spread across her face every time as if the tradition was surprising. Even though he finds the idea odd and unnecessary he can’t get rid of the image of his father kissing his mother on the cheek, or her placing her hand gently on his shoulder.

  And as of lately Sherlock can’t help but imagine if John would smile like that if he brought him flowers and trinkets, would he let him lean down to brush a kiss on his cheek? As of late he wants to know everything about John Watson, like what his hair looks like when he’s just woken in the morning, what his face looks like when the Sherlock’s hand is placed just there on the dip in his back, and if the words that fall out of his lips taste sweet like honey. Sherlock wants to devour him whole, and bury him in his ribcage, right next to his heart. He wants to curl into John Watson, just to make curb the want that curses his body. And every time John mentions his valentines date, Sherlock wants to double over with jealousy.

As soon as John walks up the stairs to get ready for his date Sherlock puts his plan into action. John soon makes his way downstairs and as usual Sherlock is curled against the back of the couch. As soon as the pine of Johns aftershave hits Sherlock’s senses, he knows that he’s never been more sure about his plan for this evening. Johns voice startles him out of his concentration, “Sherlock, I’m headed out, probably won’t be back, don’t sit here all night in fit. Go eat or something,” Sherlock doesn’t reply and soon he hears the door close. If he leaves now he’ll be back just in time, right when John figures out his date is a compulsive liar and the whole date was a mistake.

Thirty minutes later Sherlock makes his way upstairs with a single flower and paces the apartment. Sherlock doesn’t do nervousness, but the thought that everything relied on Johns repose made him jittery, but he had to know if John would give him that knowing, surprised look, or if he would turn back around and walk out the door. Soon Sherlock hears John padding up the stairs and Sherlock is frozen in place. “Didn’t go well with Jenny I take it?” John shrugs as he takes off his jacket to hang it up. “Of course you know it didn’t go well, and I’m going to assume you already knew about her history of lying?” Sherlock just continues to stare. “I just wanted one night valentines day that I could spend with one person, to be comfortable in the presence of another person and just not be alone for the night,” John sighs as he plops down in his couch. “Then spend it with me,” Sherlock mumbles as he makes his way to the couch next to john. “What was that Sherlock?” “Then spend it with me.”

   “What do you mean spend it with you Sherlock, I am here with you, my date was shit and here I am, once again, with you.” Sherlock rolls his eyes, “Think, John, Think!” And then he leans down to kiss him because he can’t stand one more second of John being so obvious. As soon as his lips touch Johns he knows he has to make it simple, chaste, just to give John’s brain time to process what is happening. But then something happens that wasn’t put into Sherlock plan.

   He feels John’s hands carding through his hair and Johns lips are crashing into his. It’s no longer gentle or chaste, but full of heat and quickness. It doesn’t taste like like the slow honey words that flow out of Johns mouth but something much, much sweeter that Sherlock can’t seem to place. John is pulling them both to their feet so that he can crush his body into Sherlock. Sherlock places one hand behind Johns neck and the other just right there in the dip of his back. Sherlock tilts his head so he is no longer kissing him, but so his forehead is resting against Johns. “Finally,” John murmurs and lips are touching lips once again.

Everything seems to be moving in double time and clothes can’t come off fast enough. John is trying to rip off Sherlock’s shirt while Sherlock is trying to undo John’s fly. Soon they realize that if they keep up at this pace they are just going to end up a tangle on the floor. John murmurs the word bed in his ear and he almost melts into the floor right there. Following John up the stairs, Sherlock’s brain finally starts to clear and it hits him right in the stomach, John Watson wants him. He’s asking Sherlock to join him in bed. But when they finally make their way to Johns room, the only thing he can think about is that their both wearing far too many clothes.

 They both drink each other in as they take off their clothes, crashing back together as the last garment hits the floor. As John drags Sherlock to the bed and lays him down he looses himself in the heat of John pressed to his hip. John is trailing kisses down his chest and up his neck. “Sherlock,” as soon as John murmurs his name his eyes flash back open and they stare at each other as John reaches down to grasp Sherlock. Sherlock tenses as soon as he starts pumping, unused to the sensation, but slowly he falls into it, breathing heavily into John neck. As soon as his body gets a grasp of the sensation he reaches down wrap his hand around Johns erection pushing at his hip and feels more than hears Johns intake of breath.

  Soon both their bodies are covered with sweat and their breathing is ragged. Sherlock’s right on the edge and he keeps trying to tell John, but he mouth seems to have ceased working. John looks down as soon as Sherlock spills over his hand and lets out an inpatient moan, and not soon after Sherlock feels warmth on his hand and hears a low whine from John. John rolls next to him and Sherlock wants nothing more than to curl into John and fall asleep surrounded by the smell of both of them. He looks over to his side to see John with a sleepy grin on his face, and then Sherlock remembers the flower sitting in the living room. “Wait here a second!” Sherlock jumps out of the bed and downstairs before John is able to protest. When he makes his way back up the stairs to present a single rose, John breaks out in laughter. “What? What’s so funny John?” “Nothing, Sherlock. Just come here here. Happy valentines day.” Sherlock thinks the smile that stretches across Johns’ face is probably the brightest thing he’s ever seen.


End file.
